Staying Alive
by fangirl103
Summary: Matthew was diagnosed with cancer when he was young. He's always fought it off but, he's never been fully rid if it for any period of time... Will he finally win his battle?
1. Chapter 1

Matthew had been completely familiarized with hospitals by his 16th birthday. He didn't want to. He didn't wish for this like some of the sick kids at his school, it just happened.

Alfred, his twin brother, used to talk to him about why he was there. Making up silly reasons while being young about how he was attacked by pirates or moose. Or things like he fought a magic wizard and had to recover**.** But as time went on, both boys had to grow up and face reality.

Matthew had Laryngeal cancer. Cancer of the throat. He developed it when he was really young. His father, Arthur, had been supportive of the whole thing. The children already had a rough childhood, so he attempted to make things lighter when his diagnosis was revealed.

Their mother, whose name Arthur had long forgotten had only stayed long enough to bear the twin boys before leaving for good. Before they could remember Francis came into their lives, though, and filled in as a mother figure.

Matthew appreciated everything everyone was doing for him. But he was scared that it was already too late...

* * *

Matthew walked through the halls of his local hospital. He didn't want to be there. Just another visit. He made his way down the hall, IV set up next to him as he pulled it along. He wasn't supposed to be up, yet. He still had to rest for a few more hours. His last round of Chemotherapy just finished and he was to rest. But boy did he have to piss.

He walked down the familiar hall as he went in search for a bathroom. It was bright and colorful. Children, battling their own forms of cancer, rode down the hallways on bicycles. He remembered the days he was offered to ride those. He'd always say yes but give the bike to his brother. The entire section that was dedicated to helping kids with cancer was filled with these kids. He didn't mind, it gave a brighter look to the place that was meant to be grim, but sometimes he wished he would be moved to somewhere more serious.

He finally found a bathroom and opened the door. He slipped in quickly as he saw his doctor turn the corner in his direction. Locking the door, he waited until he had passed till he did his business. Finally he was done and moved to wash his hands. His clothes had been lost for a medical gown, but he had enough sense to at least keep his underwear on.

He looked in the mirror as he washed his hands. His wig was slightly out of place. He fixed it and sighed. With the wig, he was Matthew Williams, the man no one knew about. Without it, he was Mattie, the poor boy who had lost having a life to Chemotherapy and cancer. You can either look good and be sick, or get well and lose your hair being forced into a wig in Matthews mind. There was no having both options.

He grabbed the IV stand and made his way down the hall again. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten up... He was getting really out of breath. Alfred bursted out of the room right when he needed him.

"Mattie!" He called out and ran to his brothers side, throwing his non-IV arm over his shoulder. "I got you, Mattie." he reassured him as they made their way to his room.

"S-Sorry, Al..." Matthew panted. "I-I h-had to... Use the bathroom.."

They finally made it back to his room and Matt lied down in his bed again.

"You coulda just woke me up, little bro," Alfred told him, admitting to his nap.

"You... Looked p-peaceful." Matt told him, making any reason to not have woken him up. Al waved it off and moved to another topic.

"Mom and dad'll be here soon," Al told the twin. "They just got off of work and are bringing food with them," He stretched and sat down. "I hope it's burgers."

Matt checked the time. It was 6:32 in the evening. He doubted they'd bother fulfilling his special order of burgers and fries. He lied his head back and closed his eyes. Beginning to remember all the times he had been in this hospital.

When he was diagnosed at the small age of 3. His brother learned to quickly speak and, because the cancer was so big in the small boys throat, he never spoke much.

When he was 6 and tried being a lamb in his catholic schools Christmas play, Al being the main character of Joseph, and he fell over on stage because he couldn't breath. The cells had gotten so big he was taken to the hospital for immediate surgery.

When he was 13 and had stopped talking for a week straight. And not because he wanted to.

And now, he was almost 16 and still living in a hospital. All if those times were just important memories from being here. Visits like this filled the dates between those.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear his parents walk in. His father, or rather his Papa, walked to his side and kneeled down, whispering gently into his ear. "Mon petit, we have arrived."

Matt opened his eyes and rubbed them, making it seem like he was sleeping, and smiled. Arthur smiled at him, too, giving him some attention before turning to Alfred.

"I'm hoping this last round went well?" He asked the boy. Al nodded and explained to him that it fought against his cancer some, but they didn't see the progress they had hoped for.

Despite their talking, Mattie knew what was going to happen. He's had this cancer for too long and new it was going to have either 1 of 2 out comes.

He'd either go mute and live, or he'd never recover and he'd die.

* * *

**Hi, so I just wanted to make this clear real fast. I do not want to make fun o people with cancer in this story! I have a grandfather who died of cancer, so I don't wish to make fun if it. This story is based off of a headcanon I told to my friend that has stuck with me. So, please review and... Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

Matthew took a plate of pancakes his Papa had brought him. He had no clue where they got pancakes this late in the day, but they did. He grabbed a bottle of Maple Syrup from his jacket pocket, Al joked that he carried it every where(which he did, just in case), and drizzled the perfect amount on the pancakes. Then, with a plastic fork, he began to eat. He looked over at the rest of his family, who had busied themselves with eating their own food. Alfred, surprisingly, had gotten his wish of lots of hamburgers. He sat there going on about how hungry he was with a mouth full of food.

"And I was like, totally helping Mattie earlier," he started. Matthew shot him a look, guessing he knew where this was going.

"He got up while I was taking a nap and, like, totally wandered off! He just came from Chemo. So, anyways, I found him and was like 'Bro, you can't just do that!' And he was all huffing and puffing from his walk. But he's okay now because I saved him.

Arthur and Francis watched him tell the story with great interest. Francis turned to Matthew and brushed part if his hair out of his face.

"Mathieu?" He asked. "Did you wander off?" Matt looked at his plate of pancakes, suddenly not hungry. He knew he wasn't supposed to wander off like that, but he wasn't just going to wait for his brother to get up.

Matthew opened his mouth to say something but shut it quickly. His stomach wasn't feeling great. How long after did he have to wait to have food? Apparently, he didn't wait long enough. His stomach was churning. He opened his mouth to answer again and...

_Bleeeeeegh_

Everything Mattie had eaten in the past two days made a sudden reappearance.

He was quickly handed a trash can and he finished vomiting in there. He couldn't stand it when he did that. Tears trailed down his face as he hung his head over the trash can, waiting to see if anything else decided to come up.

Slowly, and carefully, Mattie put the trash can aside and began to clean himself up. Arthur had left the room, he probably was sick to his stomach from the scent of the vile(or the smell of his meatloaf again), so Matthew sat back in his bed.

"Papa?" He spoke up quietly. "Can we go home yet?" He asked. Francis nodded.

"Tout de suite," he said. _Right away. _

Francis pressed the button to call a nurse down. Arthur came out of the bathroom, holding his stomach and Alfred laughed at the sight of him.

"Yea," he laughed. "British food, I know.

"Shut up, you git," Arthur mumbled as he sat down. "I was simply sick from the smell of the vomit."

"Uh-huh," he smirked. "Sure it was."

A nurse came down and Francis requested the release forms for him. The nurse nodded, wrote something down on her clipboard and walked away.

Everyone waited while the nurse took her time. Matthew got dressed, all except his shirt due to the IV, and they waited for her to return.

She came back with a different clipboard and started listing off questions.

_How do you feel after this round of Chemo?_

_Sick_

_On a scale of 1-10?_

_4_

_Forms of illness?_

_Vomiting. Probably from the Chemo. And I also have cancer if that counts as an illness._

_When do you want to come back for another treatment?_

_Next month._

_Goals for your treatment when you next come in?_

_Cure me?_

She gave him a look and Matthew was forced to come up with a realistic answer.

_Get rid of some of the cells you didn't get rid of this time._

She took all the notes down and pulled a wheelchair into the room. She carefully removed the IV from his arm, and moved Matthew from the bed into the wheelchair. He slipped his shirt on, bashful of his skinny body even in front of his family, and sat back in the wheelchair. He didn't think he needed the chair, but they always put him in one. They wheeled him out to the front and Francis walked ahead of the group to pull the car up in front of the entrance.

Matthew got in the car and rode home in silence. He hated doing these visits. He wished he could just have surgery and get rid of it all, but if he did that.. He wouldn't be able to talk ever again. And that'd just be another headache to everyone

"Mattie?" Al looked over at him. "Are you okay?" Matt nodded.

"Yea, I'm okay," he told him. "I'm just gonna go take a long nap... Or just go to bed when we get home."

Al nodded. "Yea, I got homework left to do." He told him. "Algebra 2 stuff. Bullshit."

Arthur turned around and glared at him.

"How many times have I told you not to curse?" He said, angrily. "It's not becoming of a gentleman." Alfred gave him a cheesy smirk.

"Why don't you remind me?" He said, smirking, leaning forward while holding his chin, elbow on his knee. Arthur rolled his eyes and faced forward.

When they got home, Matthew kicked his shoes off, said good night, and went upstairs. He grabbed some pajamas and went to the bathroom for a shower. Closing the door behind him, he began to undress.

He slid his wig off of his head, and set it on the stand that was in the bathroom. There was one in almost every room for him. The wig had a curl on the very front, the rest of it was a little curly. But the curl in front was large. His Papa, who gave him his first wig, had bought the same style every year since he's had to have Chemotherapy. The curl was a joke from when he was young, he wanted something to make people notice him like they noticed Alfred. Other than that, his head was as smooth. Butter would run smoothly on it. Before his wig, Al would joke that he had to rub his head before going to school for good luck. Arthur discouraged this behavior, saying he was making fun of his illness. But Francis would encourage it. Rubbing it himself in the mornings before leaving for work. But when Mattie started to complain, they stopped.

He took his shirt off next and looked into the mirror. Anyone who didn't know him would think he's anorexic, which he wasn't. He had a high metabolism, which made him naturally skinny. But, while going through Chemotherapy, he had been told he'd lose weight. He definitely lost weight... Matthew looked into the mirror and counted how many ribs he had. He didn't want to lose weight. He wanted to gain it. He hated how skinny he was, and how clearly you could see his spine when he bent over to pick things up. He hated, hated, hated, _hated_ how skinny he was.

He finished undressing and took his shower, which was short due to not needing to wash his hair. He got out, dressed and went to his room.

His room was filled, wall to wall, with all things Canadian. He had lived there for six months when his condition began to worsen, and he loved it there. Everyday, no matter how sick he was, he'd insist on going out and seeing the town that they lived by. The people were nice, and he loved how he could speak French to the natives there. He would live there everyday if he could. Maybe he'll move there one day...

He lied down on his bed and picked up his stuffed polar bear. The bear was worn out from years of ownership. He had a few stains and had lost an eye. Matt remembered when he was pure white. It was a gift from the hospital he was diagnosed at. He pulled it close, getting comfortable, and cuddled with it as he drifted to sleep.

* * *

Alfred came into his room the next morning and woke him,

"Bro, it's time for school. Get up." He said, shaking him. Matthew groaned and shook his brothers hand away.

"C'mon, bro. I don't have all morning. We have to get to class." He didn't stop shaking his shoulders.

Matthew groaned and rolled over, finally awake. Al looked at him, still slightly asleep.

"I'm up, Al, I swear," he groaned.

Alfred wouldn't give up until he was actually sitting up. When he was, Al walked out of the room and left him to change. Matthew pulled himself out of bed and got dressed. He didn't bother with his clothes much. He just pulled a shirt, a pair of pants, and pulled on his his favorite Maple leaf hoodie. A bright red hoodie with a white Maple leaf in the front. He made his way to the bathroom and slipped his wig on. He checked in the mirror that it didn't look off or wrong. Wearing the head piece for years, he'd managed to get it on almost perfectly. He grabbed his bag and walked out of the house to their bus stop.

Hey, Al?" Matt spoke up while walking there. "Please don't tell everyone that I wondered off yesterday," he said. "They shouldn't have to know." He looked to his brother, who was listening to music, and sighed. He hadn't heard a word he'd said.

He waited alone by the bus stop, Alfred off hanging out with other "friends" as they waited for the bus. Matt watched them as they took part in their stupid games. Mostly Chicken, risking their lives with passing cars. He thought, maybe, if he had not been sick... Would he be over there? Playing dumb games with them? The only real worry being if he passed classes? He shook the thought away, not wanting to bother with it. He couldn't waste his time thinking of other universe-like possibilities.

He rode to school alone on the bus. He sat alone. Everyday since he's started this routine, because online schooling was too expensive, he's ride alone. They were the first stop to school, so it gave him twenty minutes of extra rest time. He leaned his head back against the window, his body lying on the seat, and he closed his eyes.

* * *

School lagged on. He went through his usual routine of going to his teachers and picking up homework from the previous day. All of them were familiar with this monthly routine.

"How'd it go, this time?" They would ask.

"Feeling any better?"

"How much longer, do they think?"

He simply smiled and gave them hopeful answers.

"Good."

"Much better."

"Hopefully not too much longer."

He heard the doctors in the hospital before he went into his latest round of Chemo, however. They had started giving him larger doses of the Chemo. More towards the levels if which they'd give adults.

He ignored the thought and pressed on in school, convinced that he should just trust them completely.

* * *

The week dragged on and nothing much happened. He caught up on school work, ate alone at lunch, did all of his work quietly. Nothing changed.

Saturday morning, a week after his last appointment, he woke up with a sore throat. He groaned and pulled himself, and a warm blanket, out of bed. He trudged downstairs and sat on the couch. He sat there quietly till everyone had gotten up. He started coughing a few times, but nothing he was worried about. He probably just got sick from the dumb school food. His Papa was the first to walk in the room. He turned to him and went to speak.

"Pap-" he started coughing again. _Jesus Christ._ He tried pulling himself together, but he kept coughing.

"Mathieu?" Francis heard the coughing and walked over, still tired and slightly grouchy without his morning coffee. He watched Matthew bend over on the couch, struggling to get it all out. He rushed to the boys side and patted his back in an effort to help.

"P-Papa!" He wheezed between coughs as he started to cough. He didn't realize that when he leaned over like that, it only made the coughing worse. He covered his mouth with his hand. When he could breath for more than a few seconds, he pulled it away and looked at his hand. He had a metallic taste in his mouth. His Papa gasped as they both saw that he had coughed up blood.

**Thanks for reading! I think I've got my writing writing schedule down. I know one of the people who reviewed said that the first chapter was pretty short, so I tried to make this chapter longer. I wasn't sure where to stop, so... Yea. Also, I'd like to take a moment to thank the person who anonymously reviewed and let me know that my formatting was off! Apparently my phone messed things up and, it went haywire! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Anon! Go ahead and expect an update every other Friday! Thanks!Please review and thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note real quick, the chapter does switch to Alfred's point of view at one part, and continues from there. But starting next chapter, it will be back to Matthews. Thanks!**

* * *

"Mathieu!" His father panicked. Matt wiped his hand on his pants, trying to hide the blood.

"Papa, I'm fine," he tried to convince him. His Papa shook his head sternly.

"Non, Mathieu! You're obviously ill," he said, standing up. "Open your mouth and let me look."

It took some convincing, but Matthew finally opened his mouth wide enough to look in.

"I can't see anything, but we should take you anyways," he reported. Matthew sighed.

"Papa, I'm fine. Just a coughing fit," he insisted. His Papa still resisted.

"Mathieu, I am just trying to look out for you," he insisted. "Now, get your things on and lets go."

* * *

At the hospital, which Matthew had silently protested many times about going, the doctors ran multiple tests. Francis sat by his side the whole time and did his best to help. It turned out that they had to spend the whole day there. Francis called Arthur, when they were told they were "to be a while" before leaving. Neither him, nor Alfred came to visit. Francis came and went with food and tried to keep the visit cheery.

"At least we're getting somewhere," Francis said, as they were submitted from a check-up room to an actual hospital room. Matthew nodded. At least it was somewhere out of that room. And with wifi to keep him busy.

Hours passed and nothing seemed to be getting accomplished. Even if they said it was.

When the nurses learnt he had cancer, they took him back to a screening room to see if that was the problem. He followed reluctantly and his Papa came with.

"I remember when you were first diagnosed," he said, walking next to Matthew. "You were so scared of going anywhere without me or your father," he looked at the boy, smiling. "I promised not to leave your side the whole time I walked with you. And I still am by your side."

Matthew looked down, remembering the memory well himself. His brother always insisted to walk with him as well. He was sweet and tried to help, but he needed attention as well. He'd always pull their father away. Matt wanted his attention as well, but he had grown to live with it over the years.

He went into the routine he had every time he went to get a test done. After the process of "turn here, please." And "stay just like that … Perfect!" he was lead to his room again and left alone.

He didn't know how long it took. Felt like days. Alfred had called some point during that, asking about him and telling him about random stuff. Matthew enjoyed the talk. It took his mind off of things. Finally, a nurse came in and forced Matt away from the phone and his brother.

"Sorry, Al," he said, "I gotta go."

"Alright, bro," Al said. "Hey, I'll be up there in a little bit."

"Okay, we'll see you soon." He replied, and hung up. He coughed a little, covering his mouth, and looked to the nurse. She had a strangely grim look on her face.

"Mr. Williams," she started. "Today, you know, we've done plenty of tests on you. Some standard tests, others just to be sure because of your cancer." That's when she stopped and took a deep breath and looked at her sheet.

"Mr. Williams, we are sorry to tell you that after our extensive testing, we've found that your cancer cells have begun to grow at an alarmingly quick rate. We'll have to keep you here for some time to try to control them and hopefully rid you of most of the cells."

That hit Matthew like a blow to the chest.

"Growing?!" His papa stood up from the chair next to him. "We were here only a week ago! They said it was under control!"

The nurse looked to Francis helplessly. "I'm sorry, sir. But every form of cancer is different from others. Every case is unique."

Francis sighed, running a hand through his hair to show his stress, and sat down.

"I'll call my family up." Was all he said before the nurse left.

* * *

Alfred had been confused by the sudden call to arrive at the hospital. Arthur had pulled him from the new Mortal Kombat X game he had just gotten yesterday. He just loved Erron Black and how he slung his guns like a pro. He wanted to be like that. He put up a small argument about leaving, but finally went with his father.

At the hospital, Matt was in a bed. He looked pretty upset about something, but he refused to say anything.

"Mr. Kirkland?" The doctor asked. Arthur looked up from the book he had just started.

"Yes?" He stood up. The doctor motioned for him to follow him into the hall.

"Your partner and son may want to come with." The doctor informed them, before stepping out into the hall.

That struck Alfred as odd. Why would the doctor want all three of them? He walked out anyways, grinning at the fact he beat his parents out. Arthur and Franny were just a moment behind him.

The doctor closed the door and looked to the three of them sadly.

"As the three of you may or may not know, Matthews cancers cells have multiplied alarmingly fast," he started. Arthur and Alfred looked surprised at the news. Francis stood there, used to hearing these words before. The doctor continued.

"However, with those news, we are terribly sorry to tell you we have even... Worse news."

Alfred looked to the doctor. Worse?! His brother's cancer got worse, how could anything get worse?!

"With these cells rapidly growing... We are having a hard time getting these cells under control. Unless a miracle happens, we should expect that Matthew won't make it through the week."

Oh, God. Oh, God, this couldn't be happening! Alfred walked away. He couldn't handle this. His own little brother? Dying?

Alfred didn't know what he was going to do. He walked around for some time. Mulling things over in his mind. About an hour later, he found his way back to Matties room. Matt was asleep when he found him, but Al didn't mind. He knew exactly what he was going to do... How to deal with this.

He sat next to the bed and looked to Arthur. Arthur's eyes looked red, like he had finished crying.

"Dad?" He looked up to his father, who was being held in the arms of Francis. Al had noticed those two growing very close lately. Even to the point of sharing small kisses when they thought no one was looking. Arthur looked up to his son.

"Y-Yes, love?" He asked, wiping his nose.

Al looked at his hands. "Would you... Mind if I just walk home now? It's not far and I'm tired." There was a silent pause as Arthur finally nodded.

"Go ahead, dear," he said, handing Alfred his key to the house. "Just be sure that the door is locked when you go to bed."

Alfred took the keys and stood. "Thanks," he said and looked to his parents. "You're staying all night?" He asked. Francis nodded.

"Oui... Go ahead and head home. Your father or moi will be there tomorrow... Or maybe Monday to see you off for school..." He informed him. Although he spoke, the Frenchman's eyes seemed distant. Alfred nodded slowly before leaving.

It was only the beginning to the longest week in Alfred's life.


	4. Chapter 4

Matthew woke up late the next day. He was hooked up to more machines and he felt weaker than he did yesterday... He wondered why. Both his parents were awake and doing little things to distract themselves. Although he waited, and are the nasty hospital food, he didn't see any sign of Alfred. He looked to his parents, confused. Al had never left his side during treatments. Was he stuck doing something?

"Dad?" He asked, his voice coming out hoarse and shaky along with the usual quietness. Arthur looked up from the book he had brought with the night before. He had gotten pretty far into it, surprisingly. Matt wondered how long he had been up to read that much.

"Yes, dear?" He asked, removing his reading glasses. He leaned forward, his body language saying that he wanted to hear every word of what he wanted to say. Odd... He usually didn't do that.

"Um, I was just wondering where Al was," he told his father. "He's never just disappeared... Well not without saying something."

"Oh," his father replied, sitting back in his seat. "He went home. Said he was tired." Matthew nodded slowly and mumble an 'Okay'.

The day went by slowly. With doctors coming in to inject medicines and such into him, there was nothing much for him to do. A hockey game was on tv, but it wasn't the same to watch without his brother there. He ended up sleeping through it.

Some days passed and there was still no sign of his brother.

One night, when he had woken, he was surprised who was in the room.

"How's he doin?"

"Fine... Fine. I haven't told him yet."

"Don't! He should be happy for the next few days... God only knows how much longer..."

"Oui..." There was a sigh. "Arthur and moi are going home for the night. We'll be back in the morning."

"Kay, bye dad."

"Good bye, Alfred. Make sure to call us if... If anything happens."

What the hell had he just listened into? Matthew rolled over and opened his eyes just enough to see who was in the room after the door shut.

Alfred. Alfred was there. For the first time this week!

Matthew smiled a little and sat up a bit.

"A-Alfred?" His voice had shun to fail him in the past few days. He now sounded like a soft whisper when he strained to be heard.

Alfred stiffened and sighed.

"Shit..." He muttered. "Hey, Mattie."

"W-Where have you been?" He asked. He missed his brother.

"Busy," Alfred shrugged. "I got stuff I need to do, too, you know." This annoyed Matthew.

"You said last week you don't have anything to do," he said. "You just have school."

"And homework!" His brother said, defending himself. He sounded suddenly angry. "I have a life, too, ya know!"

"I-I know, Al. I never said you didn't!" He said, he didn't know what had come over his brother.

"Well, maybe you're not the most important thing in the world!" Al snapped. "Yea, you got cancer. Yea, it's bad. But other people have cancer, too!"

"Al-" Matt tried to stop him.

"No, Matthew! It's always you, but what about me?!"

"Al, maybe it hasn't always been me!" Matt said. He wanted his brother to stop his little rant. But now he was past the point of no return.

"Maybe no body loves you, Matthew," Al whispered. "Maybe they just feel sorry for you and are waiting to see how long till you die."

"Alfred F. Jones!" Arthur snapped. He had been in the doorway. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" Alfred jumped in surprise and straightened up.

"W-What do you mean?" He asked, trying to play it off as innocent. Arthur glared.

"Hallway. Now."

Alfred reluctantly walked to the hallway as commanded and stood out side as Arthur shut the door.

Matthew was crying. He knew his brother could be rude, but he's never been rude like this. He wiped his eyes as he heard pieces of the conversation.

"-going to die!"

"It's my way of..."

"Make the best of what you have left with him."

Then, after a moment of silence, they walked back into the room. Arthur walked to Matthews side and sat down.

"How are you feeling, dear?" He asked. A clear display of fake worry on his face.

"A-Alright..." Matthew answered. "I heard you and Papa were going to go home."

Arthur looked surprised then softened his look.

"We were, but decided it was best to stay," Arthur admitted. "Papa will be back in a moment. He's going to get some food. You have surgery in the morning, so rest. You'll need the energy."

Matthew looked confused. He hadn't been made aware of any surgery.

"W-What are they going to do, dad?" He asked. Arthur thought and shrugged.

"Probably a major operation," he informed. "They said if the surgery is a success, you'll stay one more night, then you'll be able to go home." He smiled. "Isn't that exciting?"

Matthew yawned and nodded. He really was tired. He lied his head back and closed his eyes. The door opened, but he trusted that it was just his father coming in.

Matthew fell into a deep, deep sleep that night. It was probably one of the best nights of sleep he'd ever have since he was diagnosed.

* * *

**Hi! So, this chapter is kinda short because the next one is the last chapter! I'm sorry to pull it to a close already. Anyways, the next chapter should be much shorter as it only reveals whether he lives or dies, and how he copes with either ending. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review! (Btw, there will be an epilogue with a surprise character ;) )**


	5. Chapter 5

Matthew woke up the next morning in a different place. Everything was covered in white. White walls, white floors, white drapes, white everything. He almost thought he was in the crazy house if it weren't that the place was strangely comforting. The only other person he saw was a woman with a clipboard.

"Who are you?" He asked, scared. He noticed he didn't feel a strain on his vocal cords when he spoke. His voice wasn't the soft whisper it had been for most of his life. He sounded... Almost like Alfred. That scared him even more.

"Ah, Matthew Williams. 16," the lady looked up with a sad smile on her face. "It breaks my heart when young children come home." Her smile seemed fake and she wore a small pink hat, making her stand out from the place. Her hair was short, brown, and curly, and made her seem to be about fifty. She had a British accent like his dad... Odd...

"H-Home?" He asked. "Where am I?!" The woman simply shook her head and carefully took his hand.

"Let me take you to your new room, deary." She said carefully. "I think you'll like your roommate. He's a bit loud, but he is your age." She gently took his hand and began to walk him through where ever he was.

She lead him through a series of doors and hallways. Everyone he came across was happy and content. It was strange. He was ushered into a room with only one other person. He turned to ask her another question when he realized the door was already shut.

He started trembling. What kind of cruel joke was this?! He turned to face the other man, and his breath was taken away by his appearance.

He wasn't very tall, but he was muscular. He had silver hair and pale skin. When he turned to face the boy, he was taken aback when he saw the mans eyes were very red. Almost like rubys. They scared him at first, but the longer he looked the more comfortable he felt with them.

"Hallo," he said with a thick German accent. "You must be my new roommate." He grinned and stood up. "Prepare to spend the rest of forever with the all-awesome me." The rest of forever?!

That's when Matt lost it.

"Who are you?" He asked, tears in his eyes. "Where am I?!" The man started laughing.

"Kesesese, you really are a funny one," the man had admitted.

"I-I mean it!" Matthew demanded. "I-I wanna know where I am! A-And who are you?!" He choked up as he finally whispered out the question that was bugging him from the moment he got to wherever he was.

"Where's my family...?"

The man rolled on the bed with laughter.

"That's really funny, you know! Were you a comedian in your school or something?"

Matthew broke down crying. He hated this joke. It wasn't funny! He hated being isolated, but being isolated from his family and being made of for it?!

The man realized that Matthew really was freaking out and stopped his laughter. He walked over and awkwardly hugged the boy, who was just a twig in his arms.

"Oi... I'm sorry." He said. "I'm Gilbert. Who are you?"

"M-M-Matthew." He stuttered. "Wh-Where am I?"

A hole opened on the wall. It seemed to be a window of sorts, leading to another place. Both Matthew and Gilbert looked up to it and looked through.

It lead to a hospital room. Matthew recognized it as the one he had stayed in while he was in the hospital while sick, just the night before. The time on the clock read 1:17 am. A beep rang constantly. One loooong beep. On the bed was Matthew. He looked peaceful, but strangely pale and grey. It was sickening to look at. Next to him was his family. Alfred was hyperventilating, yelling and... crying. Alfred never cries! Matthew looked to Gilbert.

"I-Is this me...? Like, before I came here?" He asked. Gilbert gave him a solemn nod, muttering something like "I guess" and they both watched the screen.

The doctors rushed into the room with an AED machine. Matthew watched sadly as his heart didn't restart. His family slowly started to mourn as he realized that he was dead. Matthew began crying in harmony with them. He died. He lost his battle to cancer. He had _died._ He couldn't believe it.

_"_Am I in heaven?" He asked, once the tears had subsided. Gilbert nodded.

"Ja." He admitted. "I died a long time ago." Matthew looked at the man, eyes full of curiosity.

"I don't mean to pry... But how did you die?" He asked.

Gilbert took a deep breath.

"My _bruder _and I lied about our ages to enlist in the army in World War Two... We were soldiers for Germany at the time. He returned home, after the war, married, had kids." He started to tear up. "I died on fighting... I wasn't supposed to go the day I did. But I did..." He wiped the tears from his eyes, they were threatening to spill over.

"I have awesome nieces und nephews, und grandchildren that I watch over." He told the boy. "I can't wait to meet them one day."

Matthew nodded and hugged the German. Gilbert returned the hug and they sat there in the awkward embrace until Matthew fell asleep. He was strangely comfortable in these strange arms.

He had a feeling this would be a good start to the rest of forever.

* * *

**Okay, so here it is! The end of the story! I know, some of you had hoped he'd live, but I had this plan from the start.(sorry!) I didn't mean for many ships in this story, but PruCan is an OTP of mine, so I couldn't resist putting a little , this isn't the end. There is an epilogue that will come out either tomorrow or next week(things are crazy right now so I'm trying to update ASAP) anyways, thank you to everyone who has read this and who will read it! I'm working on another story, but it is of WW2 Germany and Prussia, so I hope to get that out as soon as I have it. Also, the lady Matthew meets at the beginning is supposed to be Delores Umbridge from Harry Potter(sorry if I spelled her first name wrong). Thank you everyone so much, and please review!**


	6. Epilogue

Alfred hated being an only child now. He still got plenty of attention, but he hated the kind of attention he got.

The funeral for Matthew was held a week later. He was surprised how many people showed up. Alfred didn't speak much while the thing started. In a way, he wanted to just move on and forget. He didn't want to hurt like this. That was his plan anyways when Matthew was still alive. Make it seem like he was already gone so he wouldn't have to go through this pain now. But it didn't seem to be working.

The first night after Matthew died was filled with angry words and sorrowful tears. He snuck into Matthews room that night and slept in his bed. He promised he wouldn't do it often, just enough to remind Alfred what his brother once smelled of.

At the funeral, half way through, Al was asked to come up to the podium to speak. Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of his seat and made his way up there. His father, who was walking down from the podium, gave him a light pat on the shoulder as they passed. Alfred pulled out a piece of paper that he wrote on and began to speak once at the podium.

"Mattie... Was a little brother. Well, not really. I hate to admit it now that he's gone, but he was my big brother. He was born first... I've lived my whole life with him by my side. Granted, he was sick for a lot of it, but he was always there..." He looked over his shoulder to the coffin his brother was lying in. A soft smile on his face like he always had when sleeping. The sight made him choke up. "We were like Fred and George... Kaoru and Hikaru... But now... We're not." He cleared his throat. "I knew he was going to die... The doctors told me he was going to... I should have told him.. I should have spent every moment I had left with him! But, I pushed him away..." He turned to his brother, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mattie!" He was talking to what was left of his brother, now. "I'm so sorry! I love you, Mattie!" He was going into hysterics now. He had imagined living the rest of his life without his brother. He couldn't do it! He couldn't stand the thought, but it was actually happening. He wanted to have his kids feel their uncles warm hugs. Taste his delicious pancakes, hear him rant about moving to Canada. But they'll never get to. That's what was freaking him out. He'd never get to live a full life with his brother like he was promised.

He was pulled off of the podium by both of his parents, and someone else was asked to come up and speak. Alfred walked outside for a breath of air as he finished his sobs, not realizing he was being followed.

He took in a deep breath and leaned against the building, collecting his thoughts. He was quietly talking to himself, imagining that Matthew was there, when he was interrupted by a woman's voice.

"Alfred?"

He turned and saw a woman standing there. Dressed in the appropriate black dress. She was almost as old as his father, by the looks of it.

"Who are you?" He asked, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. She readjusted her bag before speaking.

"It's been so long... I didn't think you'd recognize me if I showed up sooner..."

Al was lost.

"Listen, lady," he said, "you didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

Arthur came out of the funeral home.

"Alfred?" He saw his son and sighed. "Alfred, where have you-" he stopped mid sentence when he saw the woman.

"Hello, Arthur.." She said shyly to the Englishman.

"Hello, Elizabeta," Arthur said, pulling his son behind him. Sure, Arthur remembered the woman, but she wasn't the same. Her once ponytailed hair had been let loose an pulled back with a headband. Her brown hair, which Arthur had once fallen in love with, had been sun bleached to the point of almost being blonde.

Alfred sighed, annoyed.

"Somebody please answer my question! Who is she and why the hell is she at my brothers funeral?!"

Elizabeta gave Alfred a gentle look.

"I'm your mother," she admitted. "I left when you and your brother were young. A few days old. You see, I wasn't ready to be in a relationship or be a mother..."

Alfred had to think this over. His mother couldn't have just LEFT like that! She would have come around to say hi at least once… No. He realized it now. She was a coward. That's what it was. All people who left like this were cowards. He glared at his mother.

Francis walked out then, tears in his eyes from the funeral.

"Arthur?" He looked up and saw his love defending his son. "Arthur," he looked to Elizabeta, "Who is she?"

Eliza looked to Francis.

"You turned gay after I left?" She asked. "Can't say I'd complain, you got yourself a looker."

Alfred pushed Arthur's arm away and stepped up to the woman.

"Listen lady, I don't care if you think you're being funny right now cause you're not," he decided to test her. "What's my middle name?" He had a smug smirk as he crossed his arms.

Without missing a beat, she answered. "Fredrick."

That threw him off. He never told anyone his middle name. Maybe... Just maybe she was telling the truth.

"Okay..." He admitted slowly. "Maybe you are who you say you are..."

Elizabeta smiled. "I wouldn't lie to you about that. I'm just sorry I waited till it was too late to meet you..."

And with that she motioned them to follow her inside as she walked to the door.

"I have a lot to explain," she said. "And I'll tell you everything. But right now, we say goodbye to your brother."

She walked inside and Alfred stood out there for a moment longer. Shocked.

"Wow, Mattie," he whispered. "I can't believe you have to miss out on this."

And for some strange reason, he heard his brothers laugh. Like he had never left his side.

* * *

**And here it is! The end of the story! Thank you everyone so much for reading! :) Thank you to my best friend for story ideas when I had writers block, thank you to my girlfriend who was my supporter with this story and kind of my editor. And most importantly thank you to everyone who has read or will read this story. And thanks to all the lovely people who reviewed. I have two more stories in progress, so I should be posting another one soon! :) Thank you!**


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